Time
by Trebla
Summary: It's summer vacation, and Santana has too much time on her hands to think about things. Most of those things begin with a B and end with a rittany, in case you couldn't tell.


this is a first for me. it's the first girl/girl fic i've ever written, and for a first try, it's not too bad. right?

anyway, this was a request from Ragnarok45 (also known as Ohhaiguise on Tumblr) to do a Brittana oneshot. well. yeah. it's a mix of angst and sexiness, also while being a teensy bit fluffy. i dunno, the cuddling i expected just didn't fit in. hope you like it!

oh, right. **obviously i don't own Glee, or anything associated with it. except your souls. i own all of those.**

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><p>Usually, Santana was grateful for the long break given to her by summer vacation. No idiotic teachers yammering in her ears, no homework to ignore, all the time in the world to pick and choose her targets and stalk them like the sexy predator she knew she was.<p>

No Brittany, either. But that wasn't quite as good a thing as it should have been.

Santana heaved a sigh and stood, carelessly wrapping a towel around her exposed body. She always tanned nude, as she didn't want any lines ruining her usually perfect complexion. She hadn't gotten her required sun hours today, but it didn't matter. She could make up the deficit tomorrow. She had all the time in the fucking world, didn't she?

Too much time. She had way too much time now, all she did was think. About school, about the Glee club, about Brittany. About Brittany with Artie, and how she must be with him all the time now. Wheeling him around, eating at Breadsticks with him, fucking, talking about _feelings. _Santana hated feelings. They were messy and uncontrollable. They made her angry, they made her cry at night, and they made her love.

She had too much time to love now, too. She loved Brittany, she would probably always love Brittany. She had come to realize that, but she knew it was pointless. That was the angry part. It was also the crying part, but she could barely even admit that to herself.

Brittany didn't love her. She said she did, but how could you love two people at once? It didn't make sense to her. You either loved someone or you didn't. That was all there was to it, and because Brittany was still with Artie, obviously she loved him, or at least she loved him more than she loved Santana. That wasn't fair.

Santana could feel those damned tears welling up again, and rubbed at her eyes angrily. "That stupid bitch, she's ruined my life," she muttered, standing up and preparing to storm into her bedroom, ready to call up some idiot and drown her sorrows in sweaty sheets and orgasms.

There was a knock at her door. Still focused on her anger and bitterness, Santana threw open the door without thinking.

"What?" she snapped, finally focusing on the person in front of her. Her heart stopped.

It was Brittany. She looked stunning, as usual, in a short jean skirt and a white tank top, complete with flip flops. Her hair was pulled up in the Cheerios style they had both abandoned, offering a fantastic view of her smooth neck, something Santana had wet dreams about. Santana quickly averted her eyes, readjusting her towel.

"What do you want?" she muttered, debating whether to just close the door right now and spare herself the pain. Brittany looked like she had picked up on this line of thought, surprisingly, and she stepped inside uninvited, allowing Santana to close the door behind her. Her body passed so close that Santana could feel the heat the other girl was radiating from having been in the sun. She licked her lips unconsciously before snapping back to reality. Just because Brittany was beautiful and Santana wanted her like she had wanted no other before in her life didn't mean she could just suddenly change her mind. Brittany had _hurt _her, she reminded herself. Despite that, having the girl suddenly within arm's reach made it difficult to hold on to this line of thought. Everything seemed insignificant when compared to the woman in front of her.

"I broke up with Artie," Brittany stated without preamble. She leaned against the arm of the couch in Santana's living room, looking sincere. Santana wanted to hate her for it, and yet, all she could think about was the way the other girl's skirt rode up on her thighs as she sat.

Santana sniffed. "Oh yeah? Well, what did you expect? Do you want me to come crawling back to you like some desperate slut? Too bad, you missed your chance back when you stayed with Wheelchairs McCripple." She made to turn away, but Brittany caught her wrist and pulled her back to face her.

"Don't call him that," she said quietly, staring into the dark-haired girl's eyes. Santana sneered and pulled away, taking a few steps back and finding herself against the wall.

"Why not?" she growled. "Still feeling some attachment to that broken loser? I should've known you were just here to taunt me."

"Santana, I do love you." Brittany's face was earnest, but she kept her distance. "And I don't like it when you're mean to people. It makes me sad. Please don't insult Artie any more."

Santana's eyes narrowed. "You can't love two people at once, it's stupid. You either love someone or-"

"No! I thought I loved both of you, I really did." Brittany took a step forward, then another, until she was nose-to-nose with the other girl. Santana was painfully aware of the lack of layers separating her body from Brittany's, and another wave of lust rose in her, stronger than the last. She _wanted _this girl, but she could never have her. Not while she loved someone else.

"Stay away," Santana snarled, trying to dart around Brittany. The taller girl put her arms out on either side of her head, effectively preventing her escape.

"No," she said, her voice soft. "I thought I loved the both of you, but I realized something. I liked Artie, but I love you." She leaned closer, her breath washing over Santana's face. "Please, Santana. Don't shut me out any more. I miss you."

A hard lump had formed in Santana's throat, and she fought to speak around it. "I...I just...why did you do that to me?" she whispered, closing her eyes.

Brittany's lips ghosted over her jawline, her neck, her exposed collarbone. "I didn't want Artie to be hurt if I left him. That wouldn't be fair to him. We're still friends, even though I don't love him." She pressed slight kisses on Santana's eyelids, her cheekbones, her forehead. "I love you, though. I'll always love you."

Tears were bubbling over now, falling down Santana's face in a constant stream. She rubbed at her eyes harshly, sniffing, and Brittany took her hand gently and placed it against her cheek. Her eyes searched the other girl's face, looking for an answer. "I'm sorry, Santana. Will you forgive me?"

Santana opened her eyes, her answer written all over her face. She smashed her lips against Brittany's, only able to express her feelings with force. Brittany smiled into the kiss, though, and pulled back slightly, sucking gently on her lower lip. Taken aback by this gentle display, Santana broke the kiss and looked suspiciously at the blond girl.

"Do you not want lady kisses anymore, or-" she choked off with a gasp as Brittany pressed her body against Santana's, feeling every dip and curve through the thin layer of the towel. Brittany sucked on her neck, and Santana let out an involuntary moan, her head falling back against the wall with a thump.

"I _do _want lady kisses," Brittany murmured against the skin of Santana's neck. "I'm trying to show you something new."

"Can you show me something new after we- _oh..._"Santana was apparently unable to finish a sentence now. Brittany's hands were wandering, and she was doing that thing she used to do, and oh God, how she'd _missed this. _It was heaven, pure heaven.

Brittany pulled back again, and Santana let out a grunt of annoyance, trying to pull her lover back against her. Brittany smiled and leaned close again, her lips just brushing Santana's. "Be gentle, and you can have as much of that as you want."

"Anything," Santana whispered in return, pressing her lips to Brittany's. Even when being gentle, touching Brittany was pure bliss, and Santana knew that now, there wouldn't be enough time in the world for her.


End file.
